


Take a Number

by WordsmithMusings



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover Pairings, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Headcanon, Minor Weasley Bashing, Multi, POC Hermione Granger, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:07:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24245518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordsmithMusings/pseuds/WordsmithMusings
Summary: A collection of drabbles that crowded my brain and my google drive from time to time. Instead of continuing to let them sit away hidden, I've invited them out into a safe space to linger. So take a number, have a seat, and wait your turn. Maybe something good will develop.General rating of M, given to the collection as a whole, and may not reflect each individual drabble.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Luna Lovegood, Hermione Granger/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson, Hermione Granger/Steve Rogers, Hermione Granger/Viktor Krum, Lavender Brown/Ron Weasley, Theodore Nott/Harry Potter
Comments: 24
Kudos: 60





	1. Waiting Room

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to my writing circle, that encouraged me to curate this collection and share the drabbles, plunnies, and random conversations that linger in my mind for far too long. You guys are amazing, and I'm thankful to have you in my corner. 
> 
> All works are unbeta'd and many were written in sprints. Tenses and errors may be visible. I make no apologies for this. 
> 
> A reminder that I believe in diversity and that representation matters. All of my drabbles feature a POC Hermione unless otherwise stated, and many other characters may be portrayed as POC as well. If you don't like it, don't read it. 
> 
> As always, I don't own the music or characters. I'm not JKR, Stan Lee, WB, Marvel, or Disney, etc, etc, etc. I'm just playing in the sandbox formed by the creativity of legends, and thankful that they've shared their talents with the world.

Welcome to the Waiting Room. Please take a number, have a seat, and wait your turn.

Each chapter may be a different pairing or universe. Crossovers may happen. Each chapter will have a rating, pairing, and warnings, if applicable. The Waiting Room acts as the Table of Contents, please feel free to read one or read them all. All titles are considered working titles, and may simply be the prompt word or phrase. Content will be added as drabbles and plunnies appear. 

#2. Dancing | Pairing: Hermione Granger/Viktor Krum

#3. Baking | Pairing: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter

#4. Baby Goats, | No Pairing, Hermione Granger & Luna Lovegood & Aberforth Dumbledore

#5. Spark | Pairing: Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson

#6. Sharing Body Heat | Pairing: Hermione Granger/Steve Rogers

#7. Salty Witch | Pairing: Narcissa Black Malfoy/James Potter


	2. Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Dancing  
> Hermione has a song stuck in her head and Viktor wants to know about it.   
> Rated T.   
> Song inspiration: Wonderwall by Oasis

Rating: T

Pairing: Krumione, side of NottPott

Time: PostHogwarts

Warnings: minor Weasley bashing

_There are many things that I_

_Would like to say to you but I don't know how_

_Because maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me_

_And after all, you're my wonderwall_

__

"What is that you're humming?"

Hermione paused. "Hmmm?"

"You're humming."

Hermione blushed. "I. um. it was nothing."

"Vhy vill, you not tell me, Mila?"

"It's silly," she replied.

"Not to me."

Hermione blushed again, setting down the spoon that she had been using to stir the pot on the stove with. Yes, it was true she was a witch and could use magic to do something as simple and mundane as stirring, but she enjoyed doing things the muggle way - especially cooking.  _ The food just tastes different,  _ she insisted anytime any of her friends argued with her. The only exception was when house elf's prepared the food, and that was NOT a conversation most people wanted to get involved with with Hermione.

"You haff vondered avay again, Mila."

Hermione felt her blush deepen. "I'm sorry Viktor," she replied, wrapping her arms around his neck, she pressed her lips gently to his. "What was your question?"

Viktor smiled down at her. His English rose. Kissing her gently, he tucked a wayward curl behind her ear as he memorized her face for the umpteenth time. Many people didn't find love at 18, but Viktor had. He had been none too happy with the separation during the war. He was always worried about her safety - more so when she left for her secret mission. Viktor returned to England the moment the news had reached him that the war was over. He had returned for her and found her broken, malnourished, grieving, and victorious. 

He had not cared that she and Ron had shared a kiss in the heat of the moment. It had mattered not to him. 

Fear and victory bring such reactions. 

He had not pressured her. Instead, he had given her his hands, his wand, his magic, to use to repair Hogwarts, to mend cuts and bruises, to fly on a broom and catch tiny pebbles thrown at him by children who needed a reason to laugh, to smile, to cheer. 

And he had done it all for her. 

When it was time for him to return to Bulgaria to his quidditch career, he had pulled her aside, confessed his love, and told her to take her time. "I will come when you ask me - as your friend or more. All you haff to do is ask Mila."

What he had not expected was for her to burst into tears as she confessed what she had done to her parents. How she had obliviated them and sent them to Australia and now had no idea how to fix it. She confessed she was going to Australia, but she was scared to go alone. Upon hearing this, Viktor had done the unimaginable; he had called his grandmother, his parents, and his siblings and told them he was quitting quidditch to go with Hermione to Australia. Not one of them had questioned him. 

For the Krums, family was everything. 

His father, Petrov, paid his fines for breaking his contract. His brother Nikolay handled the press, citing a family emergency. His mother and father had then arranged for travel to Australia for Hermione and Viktor, securing them lodging and using their connections within the Pacifica Ministry of Magic to assist in any way possible. Viktor's Baba Ana Elena and sister Marina came with them, both skilled healers, one for the mind, one for the soul. 

Hermione had expected to be bogged down by their presence. Overwhelmed the way she was when she was with the boisterous Weasley family. What she found instead was calm. A gentle hum that wove it's way into her magic, even on her worst days, and brought her peace. 

When they found her parents nearly three months later, Hermione had cried with joy over the life they had made for themselves. Her parents were happy, settled, and had adopted two little girls. They named them Portia and Phoebe. The names were taken from Shakespeare, just like Hermione's own name. It was a daily struggle to see them and have them not recognize her. 

The Krums would not allow her to give up. They quietly moved into the same neighborhood the Wilkinsons lived in. They were inserting themselves into their daily lives in subtle ways with Baba Krum, often sitting on the veranda of their cafe, sipping tea, and eating pastries. The picture of serentiy, enjoying the view of the sand and sea and reliving her dreams. What they didn't know was that as she sat there, she was working her way through their minds, picking softly and unintrusively through the brick wall their daughter had locked the memories of herself behind. 

It was on Easter that Wendell looked at Hermione with his head tilted, a sense of Deja Vu playing at his mind. "You look so familiar to me," he told her with a chuckle. "Must've been someone we knew in England."

Hermione had given him a watery smile and murmured that she looked like a lot of people. 

That night she had sat in Viktor's lap and cried, scared to hope but still afraid to let go. 

It is on the anniversary of her obliviation that the walls come tumbling down, and the reunion that is left is full of none of the things Hermione was worried about - there is no anger, no screaming, no cries of how dare you or indignation. There was only joy of two parents alive and happy and reunited with their daughter - the daughter that may have cut herself off, but given them a second chance to live life not mired in work in obligations but carefree days, joy and laughter. 

For Phoebe and Portia, there is no difference in Mila, their parents' friend, and Mila, their big sister - except she can spoil them a bit more, and no one bats an eye when they ask to stay with her. And no one, save Hermione is shocked, when Viktor used them to propose - sending them in to see their big sister in the living room with a bouquet and a box. 

"Had to vait," Viktor tells her over their heads, "Until could ask Father properly. Is old fashioned, but important to haff their blessing, I think to start the next chapter."

There isn't a dry eye in the place when Hermione jumped to her feet and said yes, launching herself at the man that has given up everything for her—showering her with love and support both big and small. 

They have a private handfasting ceremony standing at the age of the ocean at sunset with only the Krums, the Wilkinson/Grangers and Harry for witnesses. When Harry confesses that none of the Weasleys were happy with Hermione, it is Sofia Krum, Viktor's mother, who steps in and says their opinions don't matter. "They only pretended to be her family, but we are her family. Her cares are our cares. Her joy, our joy. Her sorrow, our sorrow. If they cannot share in these things, than it is them that will suffer, and not us, and certainly not her." Hermione cried in her mother in law's arms, thankful to have a woman who supported her without question. 

When Harry returned to Australia with Theo Nott in tow a few months later, looking for sanctuary with his other family, he was greeted with open arms and welcoming hugs from the Krums. It is the first time since Sirius died that Harry remembers what it feels like to be surrounded by family. 

"Vell, Mila," Viktor asks again, as his body begins to shuffle them side to side, in the way he does when he chooses to dance with his wife, even in the kitchen, with no music playing. 

"I was humming a muggle song I remembered from a long time ago," she replied, melting into his embrace.

"And vhat does this song say?" Viktor asked her as he continued to move their bodies to an invisible song with a beat only he seemed to hear.

_ "I said maybe you're gonna be the one that saves me, cause after all you're my Wonderwall _ ," Hermione sings softly, smiling to herself as she realizes that Viktor has changed the rhythm of their swaying to match the tune she was now singing terribly. " _ I don't believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now. Cause all the roads we walked we have to walk are winding And all the lights are blinding, and there are many things i would like to say to you but I don't know. Cause maybe you're going to be the one that saves me. cause, after all, you're my Wonderwall."  _

__

"is good song. I like this tune," teased Viktor, dropping his head, so his lips brushed her ear.

Hermione blushed in his arms. "it makes me think of you."

"In vhat vay?"

"You are my Wonderwall. When everyone else gave up you were there. You led me to this path. to this beautiful path."

"Vas always my honor and pleasure to valk this path with you, Mila." 

"I love you, Viktor."

"And I love you, Mila."

He continued to shuffle them around the kitchen, casting a wandless stasis spell on the pot on the stove lest burning dinner interrupted their romantic interlude. 

"Vhat does this mean? vonder vall?" he asked after a few minutes, leaving  Hermione to giggle at the earnest expression upon his face.


	3. Baking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione is stress baking in the kitchen. Harry is suspect.  
> Rated M for language and sexual tones.

Rating: M

Pairing: Harmony, side of Ron/Lavender

Time: PostHogwarts

Warnings: minor Weasley bashing

"Hey, love, what are you doing?"

"Baking."

"I can see that."

"Oh, don't be like that."

Harry laughed as he looked around the disaster that was their kitchen, "I love watching you work."

"Shut up, you prat," Hermione giggled, smacking his chest. "You know it's going to at least taste good."

"Yes," conceded Harry giving her waist a little squeeze. While it was true Hermione was a disaster generally in the kitchen; she could bake quite well. Harry often joked that she could've been a pastry chef in her muggle life - minus the fact that she could not keep a kitchen clean while baking anything. 

"So what's on the menu today?" he asked, peeking around her shoulder, trying to make heads or tails of what he was looking at. 

"Lemon Thyme bundt cake with lemon curd and chantilly cream," she replied, easily returning to stirring the egg yolks and sugar combo on the cooktop.

"Sounds delicious. I love lemon."

"I know," she replied, grinning at him.

"You know you could use magic right," Harry murmured, watching her stir the mixture over a double boiler.

"Yes, I know," she replied, "but you know how I feel about that."

Harry smiled. Yes. He did know. Everyone knew. Hermione hated to use magic for baking. "It messes with the taste," he quoted laughing as she tried to smack him again. The worst part was that in his opinion, she was right. Not that he would ever tell Molly that, but Hermione's cakes and cookies ran rings around the matriarch's bakes in the flavor department. 

"Wait," he said, looking around, "Didn't you bake a cake yesterday?"

Hermione bit her lip. "Um, yes," she pointed to the counter where a beautiful twinkie bundt cake sat.

"And weren't there cookies the day before?" he recalled remembering the delicious oatmeal apple raisin cinnamon chip concoction she had created.

"And Rice Krispy treats."

"Oh yes, those were delicious." 

"It was the sweetened condensed milk," she confessed. "I found a recipe to make them using Lucky Charms, but they're seven quid a box at the American store!"

Harry nodded. Seven quid for American cereal was ridiculous, even if the cereal was delicious. Pausing, he made a mental note of how many things she had baked over the past week. "Mi, what's going on?"

"Nothing," she replied quickly, turning her attention back to the stovetop as she added in some lemon zest.

"Mi." His voice was concerning, but there was a hard edge to it that made her bite her lip as her shoulders sagged.

"Lavender's pregnant." Harry's breath caught. "She told me Monday." 

"Which coincidentally is the day you started stress baking."

Hermione nodded, "Double fudge brownies with baileys."

Reaching past her, Harry cast a stasis on the lemon curd. "Harry!" Hermione huffed. "You've gone and ruined it now."

"I haven't," he replied, turning her around. Lifting her chin with a finger, "Talk to me."

"It's Ron's, you know," she whispered, her eyes pressed closed. He could see tears dampening her lashes, and found himself wanting to wring the neck of their former best friend.

"I figured," he replied, catching a spilled tear with his thumb. 

"Did he tell you?" she asked, her eyes fluttering open.

"No love," he didn't, Harry replied easily. "Does he even know yet?"

Hermione shrugged. "I was the first person Lavender told."

"Of course, you were," huffed Harry unsurprised by the thoughtlessness of the other woman's actions.

"I know," replied Hermione with an eye roll. "She came in and told me so I would know why she had to take the rest of the day off."

"Lavender had to take the rest of the day off?"

Yes. So she could go to the spa and prepare for the big reveal."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm sure that went over well."

Hermione giggled despite herself. "I know."

"And how do you feel about it?" he asked, tucking a curl behind her ear.

"honestly?" Harry nodded. "Relieved." 

Harry raised his eyebrows as he stared at her. Of all the things, he expected her to say, that had not been it. "Can I ask why?"

"Cause she'll give him what he wants, and I don't have to worry about him trying to convince me to give it to him."

"Or Molly."

"Or Molly," huffed Hermione. "Merlin, that woman is relentless. But with Lavender up the duff, she'll stop plotting for Ron and me to get back together."

"We hope," added Harry.

"We hope," agreed Hermione with a laugh. "Oh Merlin, you don't think she'll still try and get us together now that he has a kid with someone else, do you?" 

"No," began Harry, "I don't imagine she would. I imagine she will be thinking of weddings now, and grandbabies."

"Lots of grandbabies," giggled Hermione.

"Yes, and none of them from you."

"Thank Merlin," sighed Hermione.

"You know what else I think would stop her from pushing you and Ron together?"

"What?" she asked, peering up at him from under her lashes.

"If you were with me."

Hermione took in a shaky breath. "Wh-what?"

"Be Mine," whispered Harry, staring intensely into her chocolate eyes. Harry smiled despite himself at the confusion upon her face, but as he looked he saw something else - fear, and if he wasn't mistaken hope. "We already live together. We're already friends-"

"Best friends," she corrected.

"Best friends," agreed Harry. "Is it such a stretch to think of more between us?"

"More what?" she asked, her voice sounding breathless and unsure.

"This," he replied, pulling her body closer to his, so they were flush with one another. His hand wandered down to her lower back and slipped under her shirt. Hermione shivered in his arms as his fingers trailed along her skin. "Kissing, touching." 

"Fighting."

Harry shrugged. "Yes, probably fighting, but also making up."

"Making up?"

"Makeup sex is pretty great, you know."

"I've heard," she whispered.

Harry lowered his head towards hers. "How about we start with a kiss?" 

Hermione's eyes drifted from his eyes to his lips and back again. "O-okay," she agreed, her pink tongue darting out to wet her lips.

"Relax," he whispered, brushing his lips against hers. "This won't change anything."

"It'll change everything," she huffed against his lips.

"No love," he replied, brushing his lips against hers again. "All it changes is that you'll sleep in my bed every night from now on instead of on occasion - preferably without clothes."

"Harry James!"

"Hermione Jean," he replied, smirking before silencing her again with his lips. He felt her body relax in his arms and when she sighed, he slipped his tongue into her mouth with ease. "I want you naked and in my bed," he added, kissing his way along her jaw to her ear. "I want to make love to you and fuck you and hear you say my name as you come."

Hermione moaned as he nipped at the shell of her ear. 

"Are you sure?" she breathed, tightening her grip on his shoulders as his mouth moved to her neck, and then her collarbone. his tongue laving every centimeter of skin he exposed with his mouth. 

"I have been in love with you since I was 12, Mi. I have wanted to fuck you ever since I saw you come down the stairs for the Yule ball. If I hadn't been so concerned with dying while we were in the tent, I would've tried to fuck you when Ron left." 

Hermione gasped. Though he couldn't tell if she was scandalized or turned on, Harry rocked his body into hers so she could feel his erection. "What else can I do to show you how bad I want you? I'll fuck you on this counter or right on the floor if you ask me too."

"Harry James!" Hermione exclaimed smacking him. "Not while I'm cooking."

Harry laughed. "Why not? Your bundt cake still has time in the oven, doesn't it?"

"That's beside the point," she huffed.

"Is it?" he asked, nipping at a spot on her neck. "Or is it because you want me to take my time and not be rushed?" he asked as he nudged her top down so he could kiss the top of her breasts. 

Hermione moaned. "Okay, fine, you win," she moaned, pushing his body back.

"Which part?" he asked with a grin.

"Prat," she replied, turning in his arms. Pulling her wand she cast several charms at the oven and stove. "There, the curd will finish itself, and the oven will turn off when the cake is finished." 

"Isn't magic lovely?" teased Harry pulling her body back to his. "Now, let me make love to you."

"In a bed," she countered, turning to meet his eyes. And you owe me an extra orgasm for ruining my cake."

"Deal," he replied, kissing her lips and apparating them with a pop to his bedroom. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. Lucky Charms really was over seven pounds a box in the UK a few years ago when we were there - by today's standard that's about $8.50 per box. 
> 
> P.P.S. All of Hermione's bakes are real recipes I've made during quarantine. And if you haven't made Rice Krispy treats with sweetened condensed milk you're missing out. Just saying.


	4. Baby Goats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Several years after the war, Abe's pub in Hogsmeade is struggling to stay open. Hermione has an idea on how to breathe new life into the pub and keep Abe in business.   
> Rated G  
> No Pairing.

Rating: G

Pairing: None

When: Post War

Notes: Hermione, Luna, Theo, and Neville are all professors at Hogwarts now

Hermione sat on the barstool listening to Abeforth tell her how he might have to close the pub soon. "Business just isn't what it used to be, love," he told her sadly as he wiped down the bar.

"Maybe you need a new angle," the new transfiguration professor told him thoughtfully, "and perhaps a new chef," she added with a grimace as she took another bite of his stew.

Abe barked out a laugh. "Oh love, Minerva's only been suggesting that for the last forty years."

"Give or take," grumbled a patron from the other end of the bar.

Abe laughed. "Have another," he told the patron before sliding down the bar to take care of the handful of other customers in the pub, leaving Hermione to her thoughts. There had to be something she could do, she thought, absently staring out the window and to the paddock in the back where Abe kept his tribe of baby goats. 

Pausing, she considered what she saw before a thought slowly came to mind.

It would take work. A lot of work. And some investment and she'd need help, but Merlin, the plan was crazy enough it just might work. 

"I think you could do a lot with that idea," mused Luna sliding up to her friend.

"Luna!" Exclaimed Hermione covering her heart. "You scared the life out of me."

The pale blonde gave her friend a curious look. "Your aura seems to be radiating just fine, Hermione." 

The brunette momentarily gawked at her friend before smiling, reminding herself just how literal her friend could be. "I think I may have an idea on how to help Abe," stated Hermione looking once again towards the paddock.

"I can see that," mused Luna in that dreamy way she sometimes did. "I think I may know someone who could help you with what you need. "

Hermione didn't even ask how her friend knew what she wanted. Luna's gift was just that, and Hermione had learned long ago to just go with it. 

"Abe, we'll be back next week," Hermione told the older man behind the bar, setting several coins on the counter, though she knew he would fuss her for doing something as silly as paying for her meal. Honestly, it's any wonder the man is still in business; she thought to herself as she and Luna left the pub and meandered through the town.

"Anything you need to do before we go back?" Hermione asked, glancing over at her friend. 

"I think Neville would appreciate some sugar quills," the other girl replied dreamily, "and Theo wouldn't turn down some cauldron cakes." With that, the two professors turned their attention to Honeydukes before heading back to the castle. Hermione had a few letters to write, and an idea to turn into reality. 

It was little over a month later that Hermione felt ready to unveil her idea fully to Abe, who had blindly and begrudgingly put his trust into her when she had come in the next week asking for permission to transform his back paddock. The grumpy older man had muttered about keeping his goats safe and not going crazy but had finally relented - knowing there was little he'd have been able to say against the two witches in front of him. 

So it was with great fanfare, and more pomp and circumstance than the elder Dumbledore was used to, that Hermione presented her idea: BABY GOAT YOGA!

Abe looked at her like she'd lost her mind. "What?"

"I looked it up, it's perfectly safe for the yogis and the goats. And who doesn't love baby goats?" 

Squeezing his eyes closed, Abe took a deep breath. "Yes, baby goats are adorable, but I don't understand what you're saying."

"Well, its a class. It's offered a few times a day on the weekends, and people can come in and depending on the length of the class, can do yoga with an instructor right there in a paddock with baby goats. We've layered seasonal charms on the paddock, of course, so it'll never be too hot or cold, and they'll never have to worry about the weather."

"Or being pooped on by baby goats," added Luna, her dreamy voice turning a matter of fact.

"Yes, that would be unfortunate, but that's where magic is incredibly helpful."

"Lily Moon agreed to run the class. She has a successful studio of her own in Glasgow, so she'll pop over by floo on Saturdays and Sundays to run the classes." 

"And how am I supposed to pay her?"

"Oh, you don't," smiled Luna.

"She's paying you for space," smirked Hermione. 

"She is?" gaped Abe.

"Yes, she's always wanted to offer it, but where could she possibly do that in the city? We've also arranged for a small health food cafe with coffee, smoothies, soups, salads, and wraps - anything outside of that, they can come in here and get from you."

"Speaking of which," Hermione added, turning her attention to Abe. "The cafe will also be paying you for the use of the space and a small area for tables and chairs. You'll have to share the loo, but Luna set a good cleaning spell on those."

"Yes, too many  Moon Frogs ,  Blibbering Humdingers,  and Aquavirius Maggots , but a few little spells and some special touches, and those are all cleaned up."

Hermoine gave Abe a pointed stare before the older man stammered a thank you to the dreamy girl in front of him.

"Who is this Lily Moon person?" he asked, rubbing his brow.

"She was in Hufflepuff in our year, friends with Hannah Abbot and Susan Bones. Lovely girl." 

Luna nodded. "and the cafe will be run by Pavarti Patel and sourced from Neville's new organic greenhouse at Hogwarts."

"The 7th years are growing food as part of their NEWTS this year," supplied Hermione knowingly, "and Pavarti has been dying to try her hand at more exotic healthier recipes."

"Now for you," added Luna, her voice once again turning matter of fact, "there are twins in the castle that aren't quite suited to the demands of the kitchens there but require work and something to do. Wimly. Mimly."

Two small pops sounded, and standing before them were two of the smallest house-elves Abe had ever seen. "These are just babies!" he exclaimed.

"Weze be 82 years old!" one of the elves stated indignantly. 

"82!" 

"you both look wonderful for your age," stated Luna sincerely while Hermione glared at Abe over their heads. 

"You're okay with this," he asked her quietly, knowing her history with house-elves.

"I've been set straight," she huffed." Now the twins here are taking over your kitchen. We will create a new menu based on what they want to make, and I'm cleaning the entire pub before you open today."

In front of them, Abe sputtered, and his face grew red before he finally took a deep breath. 

"Just try it, Abe," Hermione said softly, laying her hand on the older man's arm. "I know it's a lot of change, but we genuinely don't want you to close down. We want to keep supporting your business in any way we can. I understand if I overstepped -" Abe snorted. "I just wanted to help."

Taking a deep breath, Abe studied the girls - no, women, in front of him, marveling as he always did that they had grown up so well and still cared so profoundly for him despite all his family's sins. "Thank you both," he finally replied sincerely before stepping forward to the two elves. "Alright you two, do you want a bond or are you just here for something else to do?"

"We' ze wants a bond Mr. Dumbles. Weze no wants money or clothes," this line directed towards Hermione, who huffed under her breath. "I said I was sorry!" she grumbled.

"A bond it is," chuckled Abe, stepping forward and taking the oath with the two elves before sending them off to look at the kitchen. 

Turning his attention to Hermione, he gave her a stern look, "I'll give this one month."

"A year," countered Hermione.

"Six months," stated Abe firmly, "and not a day longer. If you scare out my clientele too badly or this arrangement isn't working then everything goes back to how it was before. agreed?"

Hermione smiled, taking the larger man's hand, "Agreed."

"Baby goat yoga," muttered Abe walking away with a sigh. "What will they think of next?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. Did you know a heard of goats is called a tribe? How fun! 
> 
> P.P.S. No idea what Luna or Theo teach but I'm open to suggestions.


	5. Spark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pansy and Hermione have forged an unexpected friendship during their 8th year, and spend a fair amount of time trying to convince each other to date their best male friend. But what happens when one of them confesses they're just not interested in the opposite sex?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was inspired by a convo in the DHr discord group and Pansmione art by Upthehill art - specifically her Witch Weekly Cover with Hermione and Pansy. 
> 
> You can find Upthehill Art on Tumblr, Insta, and Deviantart. Her HP art is some of my favorite out there, and I highly recommend it.

Rated, T

When: 8th year 

Pairing: Pansy Parkinson/Hermione Granger

Their friendship was accidental, and yet, when it finally happened, it's like Pansy and Hermione were separated at birth. It is startling to many to see the pair getting along so well. But worse is listening to them as they try to set each other up with their male best friends. There are never conversations about types or attractions. Merely unsubtle hints about how great their friend is, funny anecdotes about this or that and confessional style tales of ways they've shown their softer sides.

It comes to a head one night when they return from the library. As 8th years, they had a new dorm space and only two to a room instead of four. It was part of how their reconciliation and friendship had come to life - having to share a space with someone had a way of eroding boundaries it would seem.

They dump their belongings next to their desks when suddenly Pansy snapped. "Honestly, I'm just not interested. I don't think I ever would be."

Hermione eyed her, skeptically, "But why? He's attractive. Funny. Smart. He's a great fit for you."

"I'd rather be with you," Pansy confessed. She paled suddenly. The words had stumbled out. She hadn't meant to say them. Not even close. 

Across from her, Hermione blinked. "What?"

Pansy sighed. The kneazle was out of the bag. She supposed, "I'd rather be with you. Boys are great, you know? And I'm sure Harry and Ron have many endearing qualities," she sighed. Again. Her voice trailing off, "There's no spark there, alright? I don't feel anything with them."

"Any of them?"

"Any of them," affirmed Pansy.

"But you and Draco-"

"Were great covers for each other. Buffers against others if you will."

"Is he?" Hermione's voice trailed off as she cleared her throat, unsure how to continue.

"Gay?"  Hermione nodded.  "I'm fairly certain he might be bi. Most of the boys in Slytherin are."

He rmione's brain stuttered again before she cleared her throat, "I think Harry is as well."

Pansy nodded, "Makes sense. He and Draco are completely obsessed with each other."

Hermione smiled despite herself. "I've been saying that for years."

"And still, you were trying to set me up with him."

"Oh, I'm sorry, haven't you just spent the last six weeks telling me how great and wonderful and perfect Draco Malfoy was for me?" 

Pansy huffed, conceding her point. "Fine. Fine."

Hermione's felt a smug smile tug at her cheeks before her bran stuttered back, stumbling over the conversation and how they'd gotten to this point. "So, you don't feel a spark with boys."

Pansy lowered her eyes and shook her head no.

Hermione worried her bottom lip for a moment, "And you feel that... that spark with-"

"With you," interjected Pansy, cutting her off. "Yes. I feel a spark with you."

"But we've never kissed! I mean, we barely even touch."

Pansy huffed, tucking a piece of her perfectly coiffed hair behind her ear, "We touch all the time. You just don't notice because of its little things."

"Like what?" Asked Hermione licking her lips.

"Brushing your hair away from your face when your curls spring loose from whatever thing you've managed to capture them in—squeezing your shoulder when I get up from the table or whenever I come back, so I don't startle you—brushing your hand when I hand you a book or pass you something to eat. Leaning into you when were studying side by side and you ask me a question. I'm pretending to be reading your parchment or the book you're looking at, but really, it's just an excuse to feel your body heat."

Hermione studied Pansy carefully. Looking at the other woman as if she'd never seen the Slytherin woman before, "You do those things on purpose?"

"Yes." The response was immediate and for Hermione, completely unexpected. Pansy's voice when she said it was soft, so soft that Hermione almost missed it entirely. It makes her brain sputter as a million little moments from the start of the school year until now race through her mind. 

She'd never considered that the beautiful woman in front of her, with her perfectly straight black hair cut just so to highlight her eyes and cheekbones, would ever be interested in her. Pansy was more concerned with how she looked, her uniforms tailored just so to her subtle curves, enhancing in a way that always made Hermione's breath catch. Living with her had shown that Pansy's beauty wasn't effortless, but was based on routine and care. She didn't apply a slew of glamours to change herself, but simply worked every asset she had to the best of her ability. And Hermione hadn't been immune to how considerable those assets were. To the soft dip of her waist or the perfect curve of her breast. Even her ass was heart-shaped, high and pert - just like her breasts. Breasts that didn't require a charm to hold them up the way Hermione's far larger ones did. 

"I feel it too," murmured Hermione. Her eyes widened comically as she realized what she's said, and she claps a hand over her mouth comically, much to Pansy's delight. Hermione hadn't meant to say it. To confess it the way she did. To admit to the feelings, her brain had slowly just pieced together.

Pansy merely smirked at her, "You do?"

Hermione nodded absently before groaning, her hand dropping from her mouth as she closed her eyes. What was she thinking? Clearly about Pansy's perfect tits and ass. She felt her cheeks heat even as the image of Pansy wrapped only in a towel walking back into their shared space to get dressed comes unbidden to her mind. 

Hermione licked her lips, realizing that she hasn't answered Pansy's question. "Yes. When I...when, I look at you, sometimes," Hermione paused, searching for the right words, "I feel a tightness in my chest. And a... a... flip in my stomach. I've... I've never felt with anyone else."

"Not even with Viktor Krum?"

Hermione opened her eyes, surprised from her rambling thoughts to find Pansy standing closer to her. So much closer to her. When had she moved? Hermione wondered. She could feel Pansy's breathe on her face. Hermione licked her lips absently, noting with some satisfaction the way Pansy's eyes follow the movement of her tongue across her lips. Pansy's eyes dart from Hermione's mouth to her eyes and back again, and Hermione can't help the way her breath hitched in anticipation. 

"Should we test it out then?" Asked Pansy softly, "See if it's real?:

Hermione's nodding before she realized it and closing her eyes in breathless anticipation of what's to come. Soft lips press against hers. Firm yet tender, and Hermione can't help, but whimper as Pansy's hand snakes around her waist to pull their bodies together.

Hermione's never known what to do with her hands in the past when shes kissed Viktor and Ron, and yes, that one time she and Harry tried it - just to see. But with Pansy, it's different. She knows immediately to slide one hand up Pansy's neck to her cheek, her fingers tangling into the silky tresses of the other girl's long bob just behind her ear. Her thumb was caressing the soft skin of Pansy's cheek. Hermione's other hand moved to Pansy's hip, digging into the tender flesh there, wrinkling the fabric of her skirt in her fist as she pulled her closer. 

While Hermione's fingers caress Pansy, her hands don't leave the place they've settled. Alternatively, Pansy's hands never stopped moving, and Hermione isn't surprised when she feels them under her jumper and shirt and on the bare skin of her back. She shivered from the contact, and Pansy uses it to her advantage, her mouth expertly demanding and finding entrance into Hermione's mouth. 

The kiss isn't wet and sloppy the way it felt with Ron, Hermione noted mildly. There's none of that battling for dominance she's always heard of. Instead, there's a confident stroke of Pansy's tongue against hers, and Hermione whimpered at the feeling of it. Of the implication of what else Pansy can do with her tongue. 

She's breathless when Pansy finally pulled away. Her lips are tingling, and Hermione swears she can feel a trail of hot flesh every place that Pansy's hands had touched.

"A spark," she muttered her forehead, resting gently against the other girl's. "Definitely a spark."

Pansy smirked before brushing her lips against her again, "Shall we see if we can ignite the flame?"

Hermione groaned at the obvious line, but it's quickly replaced with a moan, as Pansy's lips are once again upon hers. Hermione's lost coherent thought was that there was a fire burning within her, and Pansy was absolutely the source. 


	6. Sharing Body Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione forgot rule number from training with Moody - constant vigilance and paid for it in her new life with the Avengers. At least her partner was cute. Even if he was unconscious and they were trapped in a cold cave together. 
> 
> Rated M for language

Rating M  
Pairing: Hermione Granger/Steve Rogers

Crossover AU post-Hogwarts

Hermione shivered, wishing she hadn't left her wand behind with her beaded bag in the training yard. It had been foolish, but she hadn't expected to be swept away so suddenly and without thought. It was foolish. So fucking foolish. She had been taught better than this. She could practically hear Moody shouting CONSTANT VIGILANCE in her ear. 

She had been an idiot, really. 

Thankfully she also hadn't been alone. Crawling over the floor to the body on the other side of the small cave, Hermione smiled despite the circumstances. If she was going to be trapped with someone in this situation, at least it was someone resourceful. Someone beautiful too Hermione thought looking down at the man below her. She had only met him a few times, he had been training or doing various things with others for so long, and their paths rarely crossed. Still, she knew he would be helpful.

Well, except for the fact that he might be impervious to cold after all his time spent as a capsicle. Snickering at the term Tony had called him - often, and she thought looking at him - that he was apparently unconscious. What had they done? Dropped them on their heads? Groaning as she stood, Hermione checked the cave they were in. It was a decent size, at least, but it seemed to offer very little else. Taking a look outside, Hermione noticed storm clouds rolling in. This was very not good, she decided suddenly. 

Risking it, she covered Steve as best she could with the blankets she found in the cave and headed out before whatever storm this was made it is way in. They would need firewood at the very least, and maybe she could forage for something for them to eat and drink. She would need to work fast and use what little wandless magic she possessed. It became clear that she would be changing up her working from now, a dimensional store she thought at the very least with a backup wand and tent. She'd be damned if she was ever going to do this again. 

It took her longer than she wanted, but she had amassed a good size pile of sticks and leaves, and wood for them to start a fire. She'd been able to conjure a bluebell flame to provide some light as she worked, and the dark and storm came down upon them. Steve remained unconscious by her side as she did. She was able to put up a basic ward and remembered a spell that would keep the air form filling from smoke from the fire - if she could get it lit. She had also been able to use some basic transfiguration to create canisters for water to drink from the rushing waterfall she had found just a few 100 meters from the cave. Thankful that the waterfall was also slightly below them and wouldn't flood them out with the torrential storm that came down on them. Hermione shivered as she struggled to light a fire that she wouldn't give to be able to make the bluebell spell last longer and grow bigger. 

There was nothing for it, she thought, finally giving up after hours of trying, as she slid in under the blankets she had placed on Steve. Hopefully, he wouldn't mind sharing his body heat with her. He was practically a furnace in comparison, and she was exhausted. 

***

Steve awoke a massive headache, slowly making him squeeze his eyes tight. He was aware as well of a body next to his. Opening one eye, he noticed a mass of hair first, part of him wished to move, but part of him noted how comfortable she felt. How soft she was. How good she smelled. his body reacted to his thoughts; he groaned inwardly as he felt her stir against his hardening length. Making to move away, he was surprised when a hand grabbed his wrist and pulled him more firmly forward.

"Don't roll away," she grumbled, her voice thick with sleep, "I don't care what you're feeling. I'm freezing, and you're so warm."

Steve blew out a breath. "I'm sorry," he muttered, "My body..." he let the sentence trail off.

"I take it as a very nice compliment that you're reacting to me that way," she replied, the smile evident in her face, "It's also morning, so if it's not me, be a gent and lie to me, would you."

Steve laughed despite himself, "It's you," he replied without thinking, blushing furiously as the words hung in the air between them. He was shocked when she rocked back into him, fitting her soft body into his hard planes as if she had been created just for them. He'd admit if only to himself until now that he had been attracted to the British woman ever since he had first set eyes on her months prior in a meeting in Tony's office.

"Can I ask where we are?" He asked, trying to distract himself from the way she smelled.

"No idea," she replied honestly, tugging his arm again. "Stop rolling away."

Steve huffed. "I'm sorry. It's just-"

She turned her body slightly so she could look at him. "I'm sorry. I don't want to push your boundaries and make you uncomfortable. I'm just cold. And you're so warm.

"There's a line in there somewhere, I'm sure," murmured Steve reluctantly, sinking back into her body. She hummed in appreciation and h felt her body melt into his. "This could be dangerous."

"I placed a ward on the entrance that will prevent any animals from coming in and charm to clear the smoke out."

"Smoke? What smoke?" Asked Steve, his body suddenly primed.

"Relax. It was for the fire I couldn't start."

"Not a girl scout, I take it."

"Nope," Hermione replied, popping the P. "And say I've become complacent with my wand. Paying that price now."

"Maybe that was the point of this?"

"I considered it honestly. Tony's been watching enough Naked and Afraid to make this seem like one of his ideas."

"Hey, I resemble that remark came a voice from outside the entrance of the cave.

Hermione sighed, "I bloody well knew it." She raised on one arm to glare at the man, "You best have my wand upon your person you wazzock, or there will be hell to pay."

"And coffee and jackets. Unless you two aren't finished in there. I mean I'm not sure if the camp's type, but I figured beautiful, brunette, British."

"I swear to everything holy Anthony if this was your idea of matchmaking, it'll take you a month to put your suits back together."

"Mary Poppins is feisty in the morning. Where's that spoonful of sugar you're always singing about."

"At home, with my coffee and my wand." 

"The capsicle didn't seem you up? Well, I was hoping you'd melt his frozen heart."

"Listen, TinMan, that's enough. Set my wand on the ground and go away. Tell Fury we're taking a long weekend, and both of you bugger off until Monday."

Tony began to speak, and Hermione shot a wandless stinging hex at him. "Hey! We agreed, not the face!"

"That's when you're listening and not pissing me off," growled Hermione.

"Right, see you two Monday."

Hermione huffed as she dropped her arm, and Steve looked back and forth as Tony dropped a small package on the ground at the cave entrance before leaving. "What just happened?"

"Tony happened." Grumbled Hermione stretching slightly. Her body was pushing against Steve's before she shifted again. "Right, so I'm going to get us out of here. Might be a bit uncomfortable, but at least we won't be in the wilderness anymore." 

Steve nodded, standing slowly and turning his body slightly as he adjusted himself as discreetly as possible while Hermione crossed to the cave entrance. She vanished the coffee Tony brought and hummed with pleasure as she grabbed her wand. "Right," she added, traveling back to Steve, "so hang on tight and whatever you do. Don't let go, yeah?"

Steve wrapped his arm around her waist, humming to himself as she fit once again into his planes. "Steve?"

He looked down and felt his body cock twitch at the soft openness of her face. "Yeah?"

"You don't have to be a gent, you know."

"What's that-" he found himself cut off slightly as Hermione surged on her toes and kissed him soundly. He tightened his hold upon her waist and didn't protest when she opened her mouth to him. Experience was not something he had a lot of, but he could honestly say that if this is what Bucky was always talking about that he'd certainly be willing to do it more often. 

Hermione broke the kiss reluctantly. "Let's head somewhere a bit warmer and have a little chat, shall we?"

Steve leaned forward and kissed her again, not understanding the urge he had to do so, but not willing to fight it either. "Is this where I make a joke about the first thing that pops up?" 

She giggled against his lips. "God, no, although, I'm not against exploring that idea further - especially since you're so warm."

"You mentioned that," Steve grinned, "but I have to admit, you don't feel so chilled now."

"Probably from all that shared body heart," she replied with a smile. "First, I need real coffee. Hang tight."

Steve nodded, ignoring the way his pulse jumped as she slid her arm around his waist and held him firmly. Maybe he'd have to thank Tony after all.


	7. Salty Witch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narcissa reminisces about the Gryffindor she lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When you're supposed to be writing something entirely different and a new headcanon comes out instead. Written during a sprint. Roughly edited.

###  **#7. Salty Witch**

He had greatly underestimated his hot-headed Gryffindor it seemed. Not that Narcissa blamed him. She had done the same thing with her own Gryffindor once upon a time.

Narcissa Black had wanted desperately to be with James Potter. The charismatic Gryffindor did things to her inside that she'd only read about in romance novels under the covers. She wanted to be with him. To love him. To marry him. The feelings had only tripled when he caught her alone in the library; when she happened to run into him after quidditch practice. When he called her his beautiful flower and pressed against her so she could feel every plain and muscle and desire he had for her. When he ditched his friends to find her and pulled her into an alcove after class. "What will your friends say?" she panted through bruised lips. "They're too busy finding their own enjoyment," he replied, angling her neck so he could suck at the pulse point there. 

It was not the way of purebloods. Not proper, but she hadn't cared. James made her feel alive and cherished, even in secret. 

When Narcissa approached her mother about the possibility of being with James officially during Yule break, her mother Druella had been surprised, but she hadn't said no. James’ mother was after all a Black, and while Dorea had aligned herself with a Potter, she hadn't been the only Black to marry a Pureblood from a light family. While the Blacks were considered as dark as their name, there weren't many pureblood families - light, dark, or otherwise, that hadn't at one point stemmed from the Black family line. The Longbottoms, Weasleys, and Potters were just some of the light families that had expanded their prestige and value through the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black after all. 

"It would be a good match," her mother mused. "Profitable, and guarantee that should life continue down its current path, that the Black family would survive one way or another - no matter which side wins in the end." Narcissa had said nothing, sitting demurely as she had been taught while silently praying to every Goddess in her heart that it would be so. 

"I’ll discuss it with your father," had been the last Narcissa ever heard of it. 

Narcissa returned to Hogwarts, to her beloved James, lighter, and when he whispered in her ear his undying love when he ran his hand up her skirt and touched her _there_ , she had shivered and quaked and clung to him. His name fell like a prayer from her lips, and he had been all too quick to silence her with his mouth - taking her breath and her virginity in one fell swoop. For months they had peace. Hidden looks in the halls, secret rendezvous, and intimateness that deepened with every stolen moment. 

Then Andi had run away with Ted Tonks at the start of summer, and Narcissa's hopes and dreams were struck down as quickly as her sister's name from the family tapestry. She ignored every letter she received from James that summer and returned to Hogwarts that fall with a signed betrothal contract to Lucius Malfoy - and a strict order placed under family magic to stay away from James Potter. If the weight of the family obligation hadn't been enough to destroy her, the look of hate that James now gave her had. 

But Blacks didn't wither, in darkness, they were named for stars so they could shine. So Narcissa did just that - flourishing in her role of society wife and hostess. She conceived her son at the decreed time and fulfilled her betrothal contract as expected. 

And when she heard later that James married Lily or that they had a child, just a few weeks after her own precious Draco was born, she shed not a single tear. Nor did she shed a tear when Lucius gleefully told her that her precious James was dead. Killed by Voldermort, and if Narcissa had taken particular satisfaction in reminding her husband that his great and powerful Lord had fallen to her ex’s muggleborn wife. 

Well. 

That was enough salt in the wound to last a lifetime.

**Author's Note:**

> _Thank you for reading. Comments and kudos are always welcome. If there is a particular piece you enjoyed and would like to see expanded further, drop me a note. No promises that anything will come of it, but you never know what will inspire the muse. Stay safe._
> 
> _xx the Wordsmith_


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